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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=365717" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Elegy for a Poet</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I hark back to the days when I<br>Began, in pen and ink, <br>To scrawl some petty poems, <br>How to feel, and how to think, <br>And people seemed to like the way<br>My simple little rhymes<br>Would trace a basic pattern<br>Through the heartache of their times.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">So I continued writing; then<br>I typed my manuscripts, <br>I hit the keys so hard that<br>All my paper fell to bits, <br>But still I persevered, until<br>Computers stole the scene, <br>And little plastic keyboards<br>Put the words up on a screen.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But all along I used the name<br>Of Earle E. Everett, <br>I used it in the magazines, <br>And on the Internet, <br>My work was always copyright<br>I'd scrawl that little ©, <br>To keep the rights forever<br>For my family and me.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then recently, while surfing through<br>A site I'd never seen, <br>A poem that I'd written years ago<br>Came on the screen, <br>I read it with nostalgia then, <br>I sat and read it all, <br>But written at the bottom was<br>The name of - 'Charles McFall'.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I looked in vain for something<br>That would say that it was mine, <br>That poem was a grape I'd plucked, <br>New fallen from the vine, <br>But nowhere did it state the name<br>I'd always seen there yet, <br>No sign that it was written by<br>The poet Everett.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I sat there stunned, and fearful<br>And angry, fit to burst, <br>I mailed the new Webmaster, <br>And I must admit - I cursed! <br>I said that stolen copyrights<br>Would take him straight to hell, <br>But there was no reply, the site<br>Was 'Unavailable.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For weeks, until the early hours<br>I scanned that little screen, <br>I looked in vain for Everett, <br>The poet I had been; <br>But one by one my poems<br>On the sites, both one and all, <br>They ended with the message -<br>Copyright, by Charles McFall.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I went into the Office, thought<br>To phone the Inter-police, <br>For surely they could help me, <br>Could advise me on the case, <br>But then I met Security, they'd<br>Locked the Office down, <br>They said I didn't work there, <br>So I staggered off to town.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I thought I'd better phone the wife<br>I'd left in bed asleep, <br>I had an awful feeling, and<br>That feeling wouldn't keep, <br>I rang the mobile number, and<br>I said: 'Is that you, Darls? '<br>She muttered in her sleepiness: <br>'You'll want my husband, Charles! '</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I'm sleeping in the gutter, in<br>A big old cardboard box, <br>Some hobo caught me sleeping<br>And he stole my shoes and socks.<br>I've given up on poetry, <br>On writing overall, <br>You'll hear no more from Everett, <br>I'm merely….</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Charles McFall</div><div style="margin:10px 0">23 July 2008</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=David+Lewis+Paget">David Lewis Paget</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=365717" data-title="Elegy for a Poet de David Lewis Paget" data-description="I hark back to the days when I
Began, in pen and ink, 
To scrawl some petty poems, 
How to feel, and how to think, 
And people seemed to like the way
My simple little rhymes
Would trace a basic pattern
Through the heartache of their times.

So I c..."></div>
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